Untouched
by Hannaho92
Summary: AU: Christian Grey is dead. And by dead I mean he's a ghost. He's also living in a secluded mansion as opposed to Escala, and in need of a room-mate so that people don't grow suspicious of the fact his house seems abandoned. Ana is still a poor post-grad who is put in touch with Christian after Kate decides to work for her dad's media firm. Potential for murder mystery/M rating
1. Chapter 1

A friend of a friend needed a roommate according to Kate, and I was thrilled. I really didn't want to return to Montesano. It's not that I didn't like it there, I loved mum and Ray. But no 21 year old wants to return home after university. Seattle was my home now.

"Are you sure this is the address?" I asked, Kate was still packing boxes. She was moving back home with her parents, even though she'd promised she wouldn't. And without another to share in the rent, I was stuck.

"Yep," she beamed at me. "It's in a gorgeous suburban area! You're so lucky!"

"Well, you're the one with the friend once removed," I piped back.

Kate shrugged at me.

"Apparently he's had rubbish luck looking for a roommate. He's not seen very often, so he doesn't want someone who'll take advantage."

I rolled my eyes.

"You told him I was boring."

"No I didn't! I've never met him!" Kate looked hurt. I shrugged an apology. "Anyway, stop looking a gift horse in the mouth. The rent is nothing on what it should be, and that's saying something. You'll finally be able to finish your book."

I nodded. I'd been working on a book since the start of college. The bonus of being an English major is all the free time for reading and writing. The downside is you become analytical of every little word. I'd wanted to write a romance, a great Austen-tacious epic of love and chivalry. Only I'd never experienced it first-hand. I'd never even been asked out on a date. I'd always just stayed at home and worked. It's a lot easier to focus on something you know you're good at when it's all you have.

"Right. That's my last box packed. Do you need a hand with your things?"

"Nope. I'm good." I smiled at her. She helped me pack the last two boxes into Wanda, my VW Beetle. Books, films, a few clothes, no make-up. I had only a quarter of the stuff Kate was taking and the same ratio in travel.

"You'll come back and visit?" I plead.

"Of course!" Kate beamed again. She was so beautiful. We hugged and then I left.

It was a long drive from the old flat to the new house, and dark by the time I finally arrived. I double checked the address on the post-it note Kate had given me. This was definitely it, but it was in no way what I expected. It wasn't a house. It was a bloody fortress. A paved drive way that seemed a mile long, and a gorgeous modern building at the end of it. Every house along the road had a metal gate to it. It was clearly an extortionate neighbourhood. From my car I googled the house for sale just a little down the road.

"3 and a half million!" I cried. "No way. I can't live here…" I don't fit in at all.

_Yes you can…_ a little voice said inside me. _The rent is do-able. He cleared your references. There's no reason not to live in this amazing, expensive and quite frankly gorgeous house. _

"Well I at least owe it to myself to look…" I agreed.

I popped out the car, grabbed my bag and locked Wanda, before heading up the well maintained garden to the porch. The door was unlocked but I knocked anyway before I entered. It was dark inside, and I stacked it royally on the welcome mat.

"Ow!" I groaned, looking at my hands and knees for any excuse to complain. I was fine. It was just my pride that hurt.

"Are you ok?" asked this smooth sultry voice that seemed to come from thin air.

I looked up, and stood in front of me was the most handsome man I'd ever seen. Now, as I've explained, my experiences with men have been limited. I've not got any brothers, the guys at college were all weirdoes and apart from one unfortunate kiss with Jose, this was the first man I'd come in contact with I wanted to impress. And I'd just stacked it into his house with the same grace as Bambi on ice.

"I'm fine," I replied, taking his hand and standing up. It was unbelievably cold. The moment I was standing he let go, as if I was the one with super cold hands. "I'm Ana Steele," I continued deciding to go with an awkward wave rather than attempt a handshake.

"Christian."

"This is a lovely home you have," I tried again.

"Thank you."

"Have you lived here long?"

"A while. Care to come inside?"

A light comes on and he leads me into the living room. Everything is white. White walls, white ceilings, white wooden floors. The only colours come from the dark wooden furniture and the mosaic of paintings on the wall. It looks like someone has poured paint into shapes and then squished the canvases together at different places. Like a bizarre medley of colour.

"That's fun," I say pointing at it. Christian cocks his head, like a cat when it finds something amusing.

"I thought so," he says, not looking at the paintings.

We sit on the uncomfortable sofas opposite each other. He seems quite at ease in his grey jeans, white shirt and unruly hair. I shuffle uncontrollably until I find a way to perch without creasing the brown fabric.

"So Kate told me you were looking for a roommate? She told me it was all sorted."

"Kate? Oh! Miss Kavanagh. Yes, she was most adamant I should take you on. The last few roommates I've had have been…disappointing."

"Well maybe this time you'll be luckier," I reply.

"I don't subscribe to luck or chance, Miss Steele. I work hard and I make sure I have the right people on my team. I can't abide lazy people. Or messy people."

"You sound a like a control freak," I quip before I can stop myself. He smirks. Even his condescension is attractive.

"Oh I like to exercise control in everything Miss Steele." I flush. Is he mocking me?

"So do you mind if I ask what you do for a living?" I attempt to change the subject.

"I own Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc." I'm stunned. He's Christian Grey. _The_ Christian Grey. The Christian Grey who was nominated for a young businessman of the year award last year; Kate interviewed him at his business offices. The Christian Grey who was in Forbes. The Christian Grey who spent millions on charities for children in foster care. And I'd called him a control freak. Oh my God…

"Oh," was all I said. I pulled a bottle of water out of my handbag and drank nervously. In an attempt to put the lid back on, I spun it too fast and it shot off onto the floor. My awkwardness continued as I leant forwards to pick it up and then spilt water all over the floor. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine. It's just water," he replied, an amused flare in his eyes.

I sit with my hands in my lap after that. _Touch nothing, break nothing_.

"So do you have any interests outside of work?" I try again.

"My interests are varied, Miss Steele. Very varied." For some stupid reason I flush again. "Mostly they're expensive," he adds and I'm stunned at his arrogance.

"And your family…?"

"I have two loving parents, a brother and a sister." The flare has gone a little. He looks bored. "I don't usually give interviews…"

"Oh! I'm sorry, it's just, Kate didn't tell me anything about you," I attempt to explain.

"I'm quite a private person, she probably didn't want to intrude." I want to tell him that isn't Kate's style, but something in the way he's looking at me makes me stop. "So what are your plans now you've graduated?"

I shrug, thrown by his interest. It had been, come to Seattle, find a place with Kate, find a job. But it had been six months, and now I had no job and no Kate.

"We run an excellent internship programme at the head office," he tells me. I nod at him.

"Thank you, I'll keep it in mind. I had hoped for something in Publishing. I'm working on my own book at the moment." He smiles at me.

"A romance?" He's mocking me again.

"Yes," I snap back. His smile widens.

"Well, Miss Steele, allow me to show you around." He stands and indicates towards the living room door.

"Is that it?" I burst.

"Is what it?"

"You don't want to know anything else about me? Whether I'm able to pay the rent? Whether I listen to loud and angry music at all hours of the day? I clearly don't fit in here."

"I'm a very good judge of character Miss Steele. I think you'll be a perfect fit."


	2. Chapter 2

As I'm led around the house, I can't get over what an idiot I'd been in the living room. Spilling things, stacking it, verbal diarrhoea. And her was this gorgeous man, so attractive, confident and at ease with himself – yet commanding, arrogant, domineering and cold. Every item of furniture had it's place. Every painting had it's story. I felt like I'd stepped in Browning's 'My Last Duchess'. I was allowed to look, but not touch. I was allowed to enjoy the view of his house, but it wasn't a home. Everything was clean, nothing was out of place.

Nothing except me.

I want to scold myself for being ungrateful. He may be arrogant, but he has every right to be. He's so intelligent, and entrepreneurial. I'm just pissed Kate didn't give me a heads up before she sent me on my merry way.

He catches me staring at him whilst he's talking about some appliance I don't recognise in the kitchen.

'Yes?' he asked, a quizzical brown raised.

'How old are you?' I ask.

'Twenty seven.'

I don't respond. I don't feel like he needs a response. I'm just here to see that he is Lord over all he owns. He doesn't need my approval or my opinion.

He continues to lead me upstairs, and reminds me which rooms I can enter and which ones I can't. I'll be paying peanuts in rent, I don't care so long as I have a room to live in; and when we reach my room I'm stunned.

For a start, it's the only room with colour. They're dark colours. Greys, blues and purples, and it makes the room feel a bit colder than the rest of the house. But it's very chic. The white wooden floor is lifted a little by the grey fluffy rug and the walls are paved with shelves of books.

'Ah, now this is more my thing,' I say out loud.

'What is your thing?' he asks, eyebrow raised again.

'Books.' I point as if he hadn't seen the mountains of books across his walls.

'What kind of books?'

'Oh you know, the usual. Classics. British Literature. Gothic Fiction.'

He nods in response. I guess he doesn't feel I need a response either.

'Can I decorate it?' I ask. I don't really want to, I'm just tempted to see if I can. If this Lord of the Manor will let me make my room a home.

He looks at me for a moment as if gauging whether my request is sincere. Then he smiles.

'Me Casa es Su Casa.'

We head back downstairs so I can get some bits out of my car, and the boxes are already inside the foyer.

'Oh. Erm, thank who ever brought those in for me.'

'I shall,' he says. There's a phone ringing down the hall somewhere. 'It'll be the office.'

'At this hour?' I ask looking at my watch. It's half nine.

He smirks at me, as if in on some private joke.

'Get yourself unpacked. Have you eaten?'

'No,' I reply instinctively.

'I'll have something prepared for you.'

The phone is still ringing in the background as the two of us continue to stare at each other. It's uncomfortable, but not awkward. He's just so intense.

He hands me my box as if I'm too stupid to know what to do next, and then heads down the hall towards the ringing sound. I head back upstairs to my new room.

I unpack my clothes and a few electronic essentials. Laptop. Phone charger. I want to move the desk a little closer to the bed, so I can watch Netflix, but I also don't want to move anything without Mr Grey's express permission. I settle for plugging my laptop in and sitting by the radiator in an attempt to gain some warmth.

My phone beeps.

How's the new place? Miss me yet? K xxx

I decide, instead of texting her back, I'm going to call her. But I'm not going to call her in the house. I take my phone, a jacket and my bag for a little walk round the block. When I'm out of sight of the house, I dial her number.

'Hey! You must really miss me if you're calling so soon!' Kate practically screams down the phone.

'You could have told me who I was rooming with!' I snap back. She's quiet for a moment.

'Is there a problem?'

'No, no problem. I just stick out like a sore thumb here on the most expensive street in Seattle.'

'Well you're the one who wanted to stay in Seattle…'

Now she's angry at me.

'Don't think I'm not grateful, it's just, Mr Grey is so…'

'Hot! I know! When I interviewed him he was such a gentleman. And he's not gay! You expect him to be, because he's never seen with a date, and all the good ones are but...'

I let her chunter on for a while. At least she's not screeching any more.

'I just feel massively out of place.'

'I wouldn't worry about it. It's only until you get a proper job or finish your book and then you can get your own place.'

'Yeah I suppose… I do feel guilty for not being more grateful. And he's pretty fascinating…'

'Ana Steele, fascinated by a man? Whatever next…' I can hear the smirk in Kate's voice. 'I don't blame you, as I said, major hottie.'

'He's like a man twice his own age. He speaks so formally, he's practically monosyllabic. And he's also a major neat freak.'

'So are you. Remember that time I left my mug in my room? You went spare.'

'It had grown mould, Kate! It wasn't a mug! It was a health hazard!'

'See! You'll be a perfect fit. I told him so myself. Besides, it's not like he needs a roommate. He's probably just lonely.'

I'm quiet for a moment. It's clear he's paid for everything he owns off his own back, so why does he need a roommate? Maybe Kate is right and he's just lonely. Or bored. Or both.

'We'll see…' I say, conceding to her argument.

'Well I've got to go, the rents are expecting me home before midnight so…'

'You're still driving?'

'Yeah. Stupid moving van lost me twice.' I laugh. Kate drives like a crazy person, I'm not surprised.

'Ok, well call me again soon ok?'

'I will!' she shouts down the phone, then we hang up. In the time I've been calling Kate, I've had a missed call from my mum in Montesano, so I call her too.

'Hi sweetheart! How's the new place?'

'It's lovely mum, thanks, how are you?'

'Oh I'm good thanks…' she starts talking about her newest business venture and I silently pray she hasn't mortgaged the house against it, because it sounds worse than the last one.

'Sounds great mum. How's Ray?'

She's quiet for a moment.

'He's fine. He's in the garage fixing…things… did you want to talk to him?'

'No, it's fine if he's busy.'

'So tell me more about your new roommate?'

'He's fine.'

'He? Ooh! Potential for romance?'

'Only the fictitious kind…'

'Well a little make up wouldn't hurt…' and so the lecture begins. It's white noise to me now.

'Yeah, thanks mum, I've got to go.'

'Oh okay dear… you stay in touch!'

I hang up, and head back to the house. In the kitchen there's a plate of sandwiches and a pot of tea.

'Where did you go?' Grey's voice comes out of nowhere. I jump, clutching at my chest as if to protect my heart that's now racing.

'Oh my god! You scared me…' I say breathless. Him being so close isn't helping. I'm utterly thrown by the sight of him standing before me, which is stupid – it's his house. I realise he's staring at me because he's asked me a question and I've not answered.

'Sorry, my mum rang. I thought I'd go for a walk.'

He looks disappointed.

'You should be careful. It's not safe round here at night.'

I nod, and pick up one of the sandwiches. Once I'm finished, he takes the plate from me and our fingers touch for a second. There's a current, like I've been electrocuted and it's paralysing and euphoric. I gasp involuntarily as it carries all the way down my body. I desperately try and hide what I'm feeling, and I can feel my face getting hotter as I flush red. What the hell is wrong with me?

'I'm going to bed…' I say automatically, and scurry up to my room. I still don't feel safe, so I climb into bed fully clothed and clutching my phone.

_Well that was embarrassing… _


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning I don't feel as much. I don't feel scared but I don't feel rested. A shower does make me feel more awake. It took me a while to work out what all the different taps were. Some were for side showers, some were for the temperature. It was actually kinda fun trying to work it all out without freezing or burning myself.

And Mr Neat-Freak Grey had towels that were to hand in a shelf just outside the shower door. I crept back into my room, dried myself off and put on a pair of comfy jeans. I wouldn't get very much done today. I'd just try and make this new place feel like a home to me.

When I got downstairs, there was a strong smell of coffee and toast but no one to be seen.

A note next to the excessive coffee machine, written in the most beautiful calligraphic writing I'd ever seen;

Gone to the office. Won't be back til tonight.

I turn off the coffee machine and have a look around the kitchen for something to make tea with. No pot. No kettle. No tea bags. No food of any kind actually, just more kitchen utensils that look so clean they're practically brand new.

I find a loaf of bread in the bread bin and that's it. No condiments except butter.

'He must eat at the office…' I muse, as I take my loaf of bread and start munching it like crisps as I continue to wander around the house.

No he's not lording over me, I feel like I can touch things. So I do. The fabric of his curtains which feels softer than it looks, his wooden cabinets which are cold and clean. And everything smells of fresh linen. I continue to peruse the house as much as I can, avoiding most of the rooms I've been told to stay out of. But one door at the end of the corridor is open when it had been closed last night.

The temptation is too great. A little voice inside tells me to touch nothing, leave no trace. So I leave my bread on the landing. Crumbs would be a massive give away.

I go into the forbidden room and am confronted by a room that looks exactly like mine. Greys. Blues. Blacks. Purples. The room looks bruised and unslept in. And his bed is huge!

It's more a small apartment than a bed. It had steps that lead up to it that have been carpeted. It's the only room in the house that's carpeted. And above the bed is a huge skylight. There's no awkward panels on it or anything, it's just a beautiful window to the outside. At first look I thought it had been a mirror, like he was some weird kink who liked to watch himself. The window suited him better.

_Don't act like you know him…_

I continued through his room to the walk in wardrobe the other side of it.

_Now I could do with one of these…_

Everything is organised, everything is pristine. His white shirts and grey trousers and black suits and shiny shoes. I want to touch… but the little voice inside tells me that would be a bad idea.

All of a sudden I feel a pressure behind me. I look around and no one is there, just a long stream of sunlight from the window. I close his door behind me as I leave and pick up my bread, hiding in my room again.

It was like he was there, in the room with me. Only I couldn't see him. My heart was racing. It was stupid. I heard the sound of the front door shutting downstairs and panicked. Did he know? Had some alarm gone off when I'd entered his room? Oh my god…

There was a knock on my door, loud and curt.

'Come in…' I murmured, hoping the knocker wouldn't hear me and would go away.

A tall broad man walked in. He had a buzz cut and a confused expression.

'Miss Steele? Mr Grey sent me to take you food shopping. I'm Taylor, his driver.'

My sigh of relief came out like an awkward moan and Taylor looked at me a little shocked. I giggled at his expression, unable to help myself.

'I was worried I'd starve!' I held up my loaf of bread, and a smile crept into the corner of his mouth.

'I'll be waiting outside…'

It was dark when Mr Grey returned. I was cooking boil in a bag rice and a chicken curry in the kitchen (one of the few recipes Ray and I had between us). He came in, dressed in a smart suit and looking… well… hot. I continued to stir my curry without looking at him, hoping he'd take my blushing at heat from the kitchen.

'Evening,' he said. He stood across his island counter from me, and I looked up quickly to smile before looking back at my curry. 'Did you get up to much today?'

_He knows… _

I shrugged. He looks away, disappointed.

'Did you want some?' I say, pointing at the curry. He smirks, as if some wicked thought crossed his mind.

'No thank you. I… already ate.'

'Oh.'

I serve up my curry and boil-in-a-bag rice and start eating, unable to look him in the eye.

'Thank you, for sending Taylor,' I mumble.

'You're quite welcome.'

It's silent between us for a moment as I eat and he watches me. He looks hungry, but I don't want to come across as mothering by offering it to him again. I opt for only eating half and leaving the rest on the plate.

'I can't finish it. Eyes bigger than my belly. If you want it, it's yours.'

'No really, I'm fine.'

'Okay then.' I make to leave the kitchen, but something stops me. He's still watching. 'I went into your room earlier,' I admit, quietly.

'Oh?' is all he says in reply.

'I was just… looking around. Trying to get to know the place.'

_To get to know him…_

'And that involved going into my room?'

'I shouldn't have. It was very intrusive. I'm sorry.'

'It's quite alright,' he says, a sad smile on his face. There's a knock on the kitchen door and Taylor is standing looking stoic. Mr Grey nods, before smiling at me and leaving the kitchen after Taylor.

I go upstairs, thinking 'that could have been worse. He could have shouted at me. He should have shouted at me. That was very nice of him…'

_No. Not nice. Grey doesn't do nice. He does polite. _


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

So for a while, my routine went as follows. I'd wake up about half eight, Mr Grey would have already gone to work. Sometimes I'd find a post it note saying 'eat' if I forgot or got distracted; like he had someone watching me – which was seriously creepy. Then, once I'd had my fill of creepy I'd go for a run. And by run I mean walk. And by walk I mean a leisurely stroll out into his own garden. It was huge. And beautiful. I'd take a book and find somewhere to sit.

Sometimes I'd take a notepad and continue writing my novel; and other times – on the days that it rained, I crack on with the job hunt. But there wasn't anyone hiring 'recent graduates' by the looks of things. You needed experience. Experience for the job and a job for the experience…

Then in the evening I'd cook or be cooked dinner. Mr Grey was a good cook, but his housekeeper Mrs Jones was even better. It didn't matter what I requested – so long as I got it to her in the morning – it was there waiting for me in the evening. I'd be sitting there, eating my roasted asparagus and feta salad, and occasionally Mr Grey would join me. He never ate. He often said very little. He'd watch me eat and ask me questions.

'How was my day?'

'Did I get up to very much?'

'Had I found a job yet?'

It all felt horribly mundane – and incredibly repetitive.

One night, I'd had enough. I shouldn't have snapped, I was just so sick of him looking at me like that, like he was taking me all in and feeling disappointed. I threw my fork and plate into the sink with a clatter, turned on him and asked,

'Why don't you ever let me call you by your first name? Why can't I call you Christian?'

He looked stunned for a second and then smirked.

'I reserve my first name for friends and family. Everyone else calls me Mr Grey.'

'And yet you can call me Ana rather than Miss Steele.'

'If you say so, Miss Steele.'

He's mocking me again. I flush red and I hate it.

'I'm going out.'

I head down the corridor and out the front door – completely forgetting my keys and my coat. It's a little cold outside, but I refuse to go back into the house just yet. _Let him worry about me. Let him…_

_He probably doesn't care. He'll probably kick you out for causing so much drama, _the little voice said. I decided to do what I always do when I'm worried about something; call Kate.

'Hey!' she practically screams down the phone. There's a lot of noise in the background, and is that… disco music?

'I'm sorry, have you travelled back to the seventies or something?' I ask.

'What? Oh! No! Sorry! We're playing 'Now That's What I Call The 70's' album for one of the partners 70th birthday. He doesn't appear to be enjoying it…'

_Colour me shocked…_

'Well if you're busy, that's cool I can call back later.'

'No don't be silly! Gimme a sec…' there was the sound of people talking all around Kate, and then silence. 'What's up?'

I pause for a moment. If I start talking about Grey then that's all she'll want to talk about and it's me who's being ridiculous. It's his house after all…

'I just miss you. Tell me everything about the new job…'

She talked for nearly an hour. I wandered around the block a few times to keep myself warm as I listened. She was doing really well for herself by the sounds of it. A car pulled up next to me and beeped it's horn which made me jump – until I realised it was Taylor driving.

'I think my ride is here…' I said to Kate, 'Got to go…'

'No wait! Tell me about Mr Grey!'

'I'll call you tomorrow and tell you all about it ok?'

'Okay! Speak tomorrow!'

I hung up and got into Taylor's SUV, which was deliciously warm.

'On your way to the house?' I asked.

'On my way back from actually. But Mr Grey asked that if I spotted you to bring you home. It's dangerous around here at night and you weren't responding to his texts.'

I looked down at my phone. 5 messages. 2 missed calls.

Miss Steele, are you aware you forgot your coat and bag?

Miss Steele, will you be coming home tonight?

Miss Steele, please let me know where you're going and I'll have Taylor pick you up.

Miss Steele, please respond.

Anastasia, please let me know where you are. I worry.

_He worries…_

I felt my cheeks go red.

We got back to the house and Taylor opened the door for me. I thanked him, and smiled as best I could considering how awkward the whole thing was, and went back into the house.

Mr Grey was sat on the sofa waiting patiently. He looked angry.

'I'm sorry if I upset you earlier, but this really isn't the kind of neighbourhood that you can just walk around at night. You could get hurt or worse.'

'I wasn't upset. I was embarrassed,' I mumbled in response. He was just so intense.

'Oh.' He seemed to calm down a little at this point. 'Well I still don't like the idea of you going out so late alone.'

I'm silent for a while, just standing there trying to warm my arms a little.

'Penny for your thoughts?' He asks. I look at him, and the first thing I think is that I want him closer. He's still sat on the sofa, looking casual in his grey jeans and white shirt, and his hair is still that frustrating tousled that looks effortless rather than messy. I want to touch it. I want to touch him. Why is it whenever someone asks you what you're thinking, you start thinking about the most inappropriate things?

Instead of answering I go crimson, and move to sit on the sofa opposite him.

'Nothing really,' I finally answer. He's staring at me now. It should be creepy but it's kinda charming; in an intense sort of way.

'You seem nervous,' he states.

'I find you intimidating,' I throw back. I've been too candid, he's surprised.

For a short moment we're both silent, both looking at our own hands as if they might start moving of their own accord if we look at them long enough.

'In fairness…' he says finally, 'you should find me intimidating. I'm not a nice person.'

I don't know how to respond. Part of me wants to tell him he's a nice person, but a larger part of me doesn't think he'd appreciate being placated.

'Well… you can be quite high-handed...'

_In for a penny, in for a pound. _

He's staring at me again when I look up, which for some stupid reason makes me blush again.

'I know.'

'And you don't care?'

'Not really. I like things 'just-so'.'

'You mean 'your way'…' I mumble, looking away. 'Sorry that was rude.'

'Please don't apologise. It's not often people are that honest with me. And please don't look away, I like to see your face.'

I look at him, and feel the red creeping into my face again. For a second, it's like his walls are down. There's a softness about him, like he's worried he's said something too sentimental. But it's gone as quickly as it came.

'Your job hunt has proved unfruitful,' he says blandly, all business again. 'Would you like me to help? I know a few people in the publishing industry if…'

'No, really!' I say a little too quickly. 'This is something I need to do for myself. Thank you though.'

He nods, but he looks disappointed again.

'So… what does Taylor do for you? Is he your driver?' I ask, trying to fill the awkward silence.

'It certainly started that way, but he's proven himself to be useful in more than one way.'

'And he doesn't mind working this late at night?'

'We've both had to make changes for the sake of the business,' he replies. I have no idea what he means.

'Still it must be nice, to have the freedom of your own business. It's not like you have a board you have to appease.'

He smirks.

'It's certainly more…flexible… than other businesses of its size that's for sure. But I still employ a lot of people, and if the business were to go down for whatever reason then they would be out of a job.'

He's still smirking, almost as if he's enjoying the power even as we speak.

'I guess with great power comes great responsibility,' I say with a shrug.

He pauses, and he looks like he's about to explode.

'Did you just quote Spiderman at me?' He's laughing. No, not laughing. He's practically howling. And as he's laughing, so am I.

'I didn't think you'd know it!' I reply. 'A serious man like yourself!'

'I was a child once!' he argues, and in that moment the humour is gone from his eyes. Instead, there's pain. I want to ask him, but I also don't want to comment on it. The moment's ruined anyway.

'You have a nice laugh,' I say instead. He smiles politely at me.

'You too.'

It's late, and though Mr Grey is still wide awake – I've got a whole day of job hunting to do tomorrow.

'I should get to bed,' I say standing. He stands as well and walks me to the stairs. 'Good night Mr Grey.'

'Good night, and please, call me Christian.'


	5. Chapter 5

With a new found productivity - discovered when I declared my independence from Christian (and I liked feeling like I could actually call him that now) - I decided to take my CV and drive into the city. Well, actually, I took fifty CVs to local coffee shops, but that totally counts!

Most writer's start in coffee shops, it's just most are sitting behind their laptops enjoying a caramel latte. I'll be the one making the aforementioned Latte.

Most places were quite pleasant, took my CV and said they'd call; and when I was down to my last one I decided to actually enjoy a hot beverage myself this time. I sat with my tea on a cosy little armchair and pulled out a book from my bag. One of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's many classics about a certain rambunctious detective.

'Ana?' a voice came from behind me, breaking my concentration.

'Oh my God! Tom! What are you doing here?'

'I live round the corner, what are you doing here?'

'Avoiding the dreaded job hunt of course! Come, sit!'

Tom Broad was an All-American boy-next-door cutie-pie. We'd attended the same high school and managed to keep in contact a little thanks to the help of social media networks. We still organised to see each other from time to time, and he'd always ask me out – and I'd always say no. I was looking more for Mr Darcy than Mr Does-So-Little.

_Or a Mr Grey…_

_'_I'd forgotten you'd moved here, how long has it been now?' I ask, shushing the voice in my head.

'Two years. I moved down shortly after dropping out university. Old books were just not my thing.' I see him eye up my copy of Sherlock. 'You've not changed a bit,' he says, looking back at me.

'Neither have you.'

'Well I'm an adult now,' he chuckles, pulling at his t-shirt like he's holding out braces. 'I've got a job and a flat and everything.'

'Where are you working?'

'Local marketing firm. It's pretty chilled.'

'Well colour me jealous.'

'They're looking for a copywriter at the moment…' he mentioned, pulling at the CV I was using as a book mark.

'That's convenient,' I smirk.

'Well it would be worth you coming to have a look, meet everyone in the office. Maybe if I introduce you to Jack, he'll hire you there and then.'

'Yeah. And maybe I'll sprout wings and fly.'

'Be serious.'

'You be serious!' I counter, pushing him on the arm. 'When have you ever heard of someone walking into an office for the first time and being handed a job? The world just doesn't work that way.'

'That's how I got my job.'

'Shut up.'

'I'm not kidding. My flatmate Matt introduced me to the company and I was hired two days later.'

'As if.'

'I swear on my life,' he said, holding up the three fingered scout salute. 'Besides, what have you got to lose?'

I shrugged.

'But my CV just talks about being a people person and other things relevant to coffee making. It hardly says 'hire me as a copywriter'.'

'Will you stop making excuses? You've got a degree in Eng. Lit. You helped your friend, what's her name…'

'Kate.'

'Kate with the paper a few times, and I'll be a reference for you. Just come and meet everyone.'

'Fine!' I shouted, exasperated.

SIP Marketing was not what I expected. It was small office, made up of three rooms. One was a private conferencing room, one was an open plan work room full of computers, mood boards and bright colours and the third was Jack Hyde's office.

Jack Hyde was not your typical boss either. He was wearing a paisley shirt and jeans, with sandals. It wasn't a good look, but I wasn't going to be the one to tell him. He had a Hassle-Hoff Curly quiff and a pair of unnecessarily large specs sat in it. He looked up from his laptop as Tom and I entered his office and smiled awkwardly.

'Jack, this is Ana. We went to school together.'

Jack stood up and shook my hand.

'Hello Ana. It's nice to meet you.'

'Likewise.'

'Ana's looking for a job,' Tom said, handing Jack my CV.

'What previous experience do you have as a copy writer?' Jack asked whilst scanning my CV.

'Very little actually…' I started.

'She used to be on her university newspaper, and I can attest to her skills as a writer,' Tom cut in. I blushed. I'd swapped one control freak for another.

'Well, I can't make any promises. The higher ups are going to want a final say. But how about a month's trial? Minimal pay of course, but I find the best way to find out what people can do is to throw them in at the deep end,' Jack replied, smiling at me.

'That would be amazing!' I smiled back.

'Awesome! That's settled! Drinks to celebrate!' Tom cheered, 'I'll round up the gang.'

'I'll call Christian, see if he wants to come,' I added, grabbing my mobile from my bag.

'Is that your boyfriend?' Jack asked, a little cold all of a sudden.

'No, I'm his lodger,' I answered, texting away.

'Oh good,' Jack smiled at me again. My turn to smile at him awkwardly.

Hey. I got a job! Some people from the office are taking me for a drink to celebrate if you'd like to join us?

I waited. Two seconds later my phone buzzed.

Can't. Work thing sorry. Congratulations on the job.

_Ouch. _

'Ready to go?' Tom called from the door, snapping me out of the disappointed stare I was giving my phone.

'Sure,' I replied and we left.

The bar we went to was packed out by five, heaving by six and I was feeling claustrophobic by seven. Claustrophobic and very, very drunk. I don't know how many cocktails I had, shots of tequila and curly fries – but they were all bad ideas.

'I need to get some air!' I called over the really, really loud music.

'What!'

'Air!'

'Hair?'

'Yeah!' I got up from the wobbly table. No. Wait. I was the wobbly one. The floor was no longer flat. Sweet Lord I wanted to die.

I sat on the curb as the cold air washed over me. It didn't make me feel better, but it did make me feel cold. I got my phone and saw a missed call from Kate.

_Kate! I love Kate… _

I called her back and got the answer phone.

'Kate! Kate, you called! I miss you! But guess who got a job today! I'm so proud of me. But guess who's clearly not proud of me! Mr Grey…' I drew out his name in disgust. 'He totally bailed on my celebration drinks. I mean! Rude! I'm going to give him a piece of my mind!'

I hung up and called Christian. He answered.

'Miss…Ana?' he corrected himself.

'Why don't you like me?' I asked.

'Excuse me?'

'You don't like me. I'm like, the best housemate you could ask for! I'm tidy! I'm quiet! I keep out of your stuff! Except for that one time I didn't but I told you about that! And you won't even come out for my drinks!'

'Have you been drinking this entire time?'

'No…' I lied.

'Where are you?'

'What? It doesn't matter. I don't want you here now anyway!' I shouted down the phone.

'For fuck sake Anastasia! Where are you?'

'Don't swear at me!' I shouted back and I hung up the phone.

_That sure showed him…_

_'_Hey! Where did you go?' Tom asked me, sitting next to me on the curb.

'I came out for air, and then I called Kate.'

'Kate?'

'Roommate from university.'

'Ah yes! I thought you'd be on the phone to your flatmate. Letting them know you'll be home late.'

'It's not that late!' I argued. He laughed.

'No it's not! We've got a lot more drinking to do!'

_No… please… no more drinking…_

As if my stomach wanted to reiterate my point, it vacated it's entire contents into the street. It poured from my like a fountain, constantly for what felt like forever. On and on it went. Thankfully, Tom had the decency to move my hair out of my face and rub my back.

'Scratch that,' he said, 'we should get you home.'

'Miss Steele?'

'Taylor?' I looked up and saw the stoic soldier-like driver standing in front of me, dressed in a suit with a flicker of worry on his face.

'Mr Grey sent me to take you home.'

'Mr Grey?' Tom asked me.

'My…Taylor is he my landlord? Roommate? Or what?'

Taylor answered by gingerly taking my arm and helping me to stand.

'Do you need me to come with you?' Tom asked, looking worried.

'Nah. It's cool. I'll see you at work!' I called back at him.

'Yeah… I'll tell Jack you won't be in tomorrow…'

Taylor's car was nice and soft but my head was swimming. When we did finally reach _Grey Manor_ I just wanted to sleep. Or die. I wasn't fussy by that point.

Christian opened the door as Taylor carried me to it, and he looked pissed.

'I guess you're disappointed in me…' I slurred.

He glared and grumbled, but didn't actually say anything.

'Thank you Taylor. I'll take it from here.' Christian grabbed me by my jacket, and carried me into the house.

_He won't touch you more than he has to… He thinks you're disgusting… _

It wasn't a pleasant thought to have as I fell asleep, but I didn't want to be awake anymore anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

I woke up slowly, the light breaking through the curtains a little and a breeze lapping at my face. It was nice for a second… and then I sat up with a start and my body convulsed with an epic spillage of vomit. Right into my lap. Lovely. Thankfully, by this point I didn't have any food in my stomach so it just kind of looked like water. I cradled my head which was swimming and my eyes were sore. This was so unfair.

After a moment, once I was sure I wasn't going to be sick again, I collected up all of my bedsheets, clothes from last night and took them downstairs to wash. It wasn't until I'd finished and got myself a glass of water that I realised I was in my pyjamas. I had no idea how or who had changed me, but I had an idea and I was very nearly almost sick again.

The kitchen was too bright so I returned to my den. It smelt of sick and beer. But on my bedside table was two aspirins and a glass of water I'd been too hung-over to notice before. And a little note…

**Feel better. CG. **

I should be grateful, but I just feel embarrassed. My phone was flashing, three texts and four missed phone calls.

Spoke to Jack about your behaviour last night ;) Joke! Told him you needed to sort some things today and you'll be in on Monday. Sorry it got out of hand last night! Hope I didn't get you into too much trouble with dad… Tom x

What was with you last night? You never drink, let alone leave weird answerphone messages. Are you ok? What happened with Grey? Kate. x

Can you at least reply so I know you're alive? Kate. x

And of course the missed calls were all from Kate. I started running a bath and called her whilst the tub filled.

'Morning Kate, now I'm seriously fragile today so please no screaming…'

'I could ring your neck young lady!' screamed Kate, completely ignoring me. 'What happened?'

'Well I was offered a job yesterday at SIP Marketing...'

'That's great!' Kate cut in, 'When do you start? Is the salary any good? Are the people in the office nice? Did they look after you? I've just had to sort out one of the junior execs here. He thought it was acceptable to tell everyone we were hooking up… I'm sure a sexual harassment lawsuit will put him in his place though…'

I remind myself that Kate has been to the best private schools in Washington. Her family has money, and she's grown up confident and sure of her place in the world. She doesn't take any crap. I am in awe of her.

'They're good people…' I reply in response to her earlier questions.

'And what happened with Grey? That's the real reason I called…' I can hear the smirk in her voice.

'Oh God it got so much worse after I called you. We had a good long chat the other night, I thought we were making progress – but then I invited him out for drinks and he totally bailed. Then when I got a little overboard last night, he sent his bodyguard to come and get me! It was so embarrassing! And then I was very sick… he wouldn't even look at me…'

'Oh Ana…' the smirk has changed to disappointment and I'm disappointed in myself as well.

'I know…'

'Well have you spoken to him since?'

'No. He left a 'get better' note with a glass of water and painkillers but I think this was the last straw. He's a total control freak. He's not going to want some lairy wild child living with him.'

'But you are none of those things.'

'I know, last night was so out of character… but I don't want to be here and have him _look_ at me like _that_. It's just so…'

'Uncomfortable?'

'Intense.'

'Intense?'

'Yeah… you know what I mean.'

'Not really Ana… but if you don't feel safe just get out of there.'

'I will. Thanks Kate. Anyway, I'm going to bathe last night away for now. Speak tomorrow?'

'You better. I'm going to be sat here worrying about you all night otherwise.'

'Bye,' I finished and we hung up.

The bathe was bliss. The hot water held me close and warm in the large tub and the steam cleared my headache for a while. I fell asleep and just lay there for ages.

When I return to my room, new bed sheets have been placed on my bed and the half-drunk glass of water has been replaced with orange juice and toast. I have one bite of the toast and down the orange juice which is fresh and full of pulp – just the way I like it. I don't question who made my bed or brought me breakfast/lunch/dinner/whichever it is. I just climb in and fall asleep.

It's dark when I wake and I feel much better. I head downstairs shakily. My legs seem to still be drunk and all the lights are off, but I can hear a noise from the living room. As I enter the door I see Christian stood, silhouetted silver by the white and blue light of the television. He's so tall and broad, and his hair looks almost black in the lack-of-light. He turns slowly and smiles politely at me.

'How are we feeling?'

'Better than I was this morning. I'm so sorry…' I start, but he holds up his hand to stop me.

'It was quite diverting. Not a night I'll forget any time soon. Were your bosses angry you failed to come in today?'

'I don't think so. Tom covered for me.'

'Ah yes… Tom…' his stance changes, as does his expression. It's no longer polite but cold. 'Hardly an honourable man, the one who takes a girl out and gets her drunk so she'll thank him later…'

'That's not…Tom's not like that. Sure he's asked me out before but he would never force himself on me. He's my friend.'

'A friend who allowed you to make a fool of yourself?' Christian asked, eyebrow raised.

'Fool of myself?' I go to argue, taking a step forwards and crossing my arms. 'At least he invited me out. You just bailed.'

Christian looked shocked for a second and then a little hurt.

'It couldn't be helped. I'd have loved to join you and your new _friends_…' The word 'friends' was strained. I hadn't imagined it, he was still angry with them. With me for defending them.

'All I'm saying is you have no right to scold me.'

'Just be thankful scolding is all I'm doing…' he said with a sardonic smile.

'What do you mean?' I involuntarily move closer, though Kate's voice at the back of my mind is telling me to walk away.

'I'm just saying, if you were mine then you wouldn't be able to walk for a week after a stunt like last night. You were completely out of control.'

_Maybe that was the point!_ I shout inside. But for some stupid reason what comes out of my mouth is,

'Yours?'

He doesn't answer my question, he just looks at me. I can't read his face. I've no idea what he's thinking. Suddenly it boils up inside of me.

_He's mocking you again. You're his kept pet. That's what he wants a housemate for. Some kind of social experiment where he can watch you run around trying to be your best self for him. _

'I don't belong to anybody,' I snap. And with a force I wouldn't have expected from me, in a motion that was totally out of character, I slapped him. Only… I didn't slap him. I raised my hand towards his face and then, as if in slow motion, I watched my hand glide to his perfectly chiselled jaw and then pass right through it like he was made of smoke.

We both looked at each other, his face full of shock, mine probably betraying my terror.

'What…' I stuttered. 'What…are…you?'

'Ana… let me explain…' Christian argued. But I was gone. I was up the stairs. I was in my room. I was barricading the door. It was a poor excuse for a barricade. It was a chair and a lamp as none of the other furniture would move. I quickly got dressed and through some other clothes into a rucksack. Christian wasn't banging on the door as I expected him to be. He wasn't shouting for me/at me or at all. He was however, now standing in my room next to my bedside table, hands in his pockets just watching me.

I screamed. Loudly.

'Please Ana. Don't be afraid of me. Let me explain.'

'This can't be happening,' I looked back at my door and saw my barricade still in place. 'How did you get in here?'

'Will you please calm down so I can explain? I'll tell you everything, just, please, stop.'

I stopped. Something stronger than fear was taking over me now. Curiosity possibly. I sat on my bed so he couldn't see my legs shaking, but stayed as far away from him as this would allow. He sat next to me on the bed anyway.

'I'm dead Ana. I'm a ghost.'

'Shut up…'


	7. Chapter 7

"Breathe Ana…breathe…Maybe you should sit down?"

I did.

"Do you want a glass of water?"

I did. He handed me the water bottle sat on my desk and I just stared at him.

"My hand… your face… what…a ghost?" I eventually mumbled out.

He looked down and away from me, a little more colour in his pale cheeks than usual.

"I'm a ghost. Paranormal apparition. Dead."

"Dead?"

He nodded.

"How? Or Why?"

"Taylor's looking into it. I was murdered."

"Murdered?! Wait… Taylor knows? And Miss Jones? Does she know?"

"No. Only Taylor. He found me. Next to my body…"

"_Ohmygod_."

"No one else knows Ana. No one else can know."

"Oh my god…"

"Not even my family…"

"Oh…my…god…"

"Ana," he said coldly, pulling me from my mental abys. "Anastasia, I need to be very clear on this. No one can know. Not yet. I am the sole proprietor of GHE. I never wrote a will, the business would go straight to my family who want nothing to do with it. They'll chunk it up and sell it on. People will lose their jobs. I can't allow that. They rely on me."

"Do the police know?"

He sighed, frustration clear on his face.

"So they can file a report? And call Taylor crazy for being able to see me? Shut my business down?"

"Sorry…" I mumbled. "It's… just a lot to process."

He nods again, relaxing.

"That's why Taylor keeps coming back so late isn't it? To talk about the murder."

"Sort of. I use him as a runner to and from the office. For some reason, sunlight passes through me but fluorescent light doesn't. I can be seen at night, even with the lights on, but not during the day. That's why he comes so late. We both find the whole thing easier to deal with if I can appear as human as possible."

"So, you can't leave the house?"

"No. My soul is tied to the house. I can't leave."

"Is your body still here?" I asked, jumping up from where I sat suddenly, as if I expected to find the body under my bed.

He laughed.

"No. Taylor has…had it put into storage," he smirked.

"Oh god…" I felt sick again. This was all too weird. "How long have you been dead?"

"10 months."

"What?! Ten months! And no one noticed!"

"You didn't. And you've been living here a couple of months now."

"I feel so stupid…"

"Don't. You weren't ever supposed to find out. As with Taylor in the office, I needed someone to move around the house. Keep it _lived_ in. So that Miss Jones and the neighbours were kept from asking too many questions. I didn't expect such a _violent_ reaction from you…" He was smirking again.

"Passionate, not violent," I shot back and immediately wished I hadn't. I could feel myself flushing red, and he looked sad.

"I need you to understand, I'd like you to stay. Not only to keep my secret, but also because…" He paused.

_Say you like me… or at least that you're attracted to me. Say. Anything._

"I believe living here would be good for you. It'll allow you some of the independence you won't find elsewhere. You don't have to work as everything is provided for you. You could finish your book. I'd be more than happy to help you publish it."

_Anything but that. _

I decided to change the topic.

"How come you can move things? Inanimate objects…"

_And not me. _

"Practice. I need to really focus and it hurts a little, but it feels like living."

"Have you tried with people?"

"Yes. But it doesn't work in the same way, just like the light." He placed his hand around the water bottle over mine and though I could feel a small spark of electricity, I couldn't feel his hand.

"But you carried me, how?"

"I concentrated on your clothes. I was able to carry them with you in them, but it wasn't easy."

He moved his hand up my arm, over my sleeve and it felt like anyone else's hand.

"That's so sad…" I said, self pityingly. Christian took it as pity towards him and removed his hand sharpish.

"So will you stay?" he stared at me intently. I nodded, biting my lip. He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Good. I'll leave you to process," he said eventually. And then he walked out. And by 'out' I mean he passed through my makeshift barricade, then the door and then was out of sight.

I scrambled to my desk the moment he was out of sight. I was totally torn. Did I call Kate and break a promise I'd not made yet? Or did I google the shit out of what Christian had just told me?

_Google first. Kate can wait. _

The first few sites that came up where your usual; Wikipedia, ghost-wiki, ghostfacers (who seemed to be bizarre losers that liked 'hunting' ghosts but didn't actually know an awful lot about them). So instead I tried googling the symptoms Christian had told me about. The sunlight/no-touchy thing. Again, there wasn't a lot to go on. It kept bringing me back to ghosts – and then lists of top ten ghost films.

I googled 'murdered millionaires, back from the dead', 'ghosts', 'Spirits' and 'the undead' and I couldn't find anything that didn't sound completely mental. When my eyes wouldn't strain against the light anymore, I went to bed. I didn't expect sleep, but it came pretty easily. As did the dreams.

_Christian Grey. _

_Christian Grey in those tight grey jeans… _

_And just as I'm about to touch his hand…_

_He fades away. _

My alarm woke me, and for the first time in a while I didn't mind. My dreams were just making me sad.

I got ready for work; as bizarre as it was to have a first day on a Friday, it wasn't nearly as bizarre as my home life now was. I found tea and a healthy breakfast option of muesli and milk waiting for me downstairs, and little note from Miss Jones saying she would be doing the food shopping that afternoon so to let her know what I wanted.

_A year's supply of cookie dough ice cream and twice my body weight in chocolate please…_

No note from Christian.

I just about managed to find my way to SIP Marketing again, thanks to directions messaged to me by Tom. It was nice to have his beaming face to walk into.

"Here she is! The Chunder Wonder herself! Chunderwoman as she shall hence forth be known!" he shouted. Everyone looked up from their desks and I nearly died of embarrassment.

"You're hilarious…" I said, walking towards him, keeping my head down. "Give me a job to do so I can avoid all the mocking looks," I said, shoving him.

"You'll want to see Jack about that. I'm strictly the fun police. I couldn't bring myself to actually making you work after the day you must have had yesterday."

"Huh?" I gasp, my jaw falling open and my face probably fluorescent red.

"With your landlord? And your 'girls-gone-wild' behaviour? His… was it his driver? Looked seriously cranky."

"Oh! Yeah, he wasn't pleased," I say, quickly turning to walk towards Jack's office. I knocked, quickly and walked in. Jack was sat – wearing the same clothes I'd seen him in the last time I'd seen him – on the phone, with his glasses resting on his head.

He motioned for me to come in and sit in front of him and continued talking to whoever was down the other end of the phone.

"Yeah. Yeah I know. It's ridiculous. Yeah. Okay, well I've got someone in my office now so I'll have to get back to you on that. Okay."

He hung up and looked at me, with an expression that was caught between quizzical and lecherous.

"I hear we had a very poorly Ana yesterday. Did Tom rough you up a little bit?"

"Erm… no…I just think it was a few cocktails too many." His look made me so uncomfortable, honesty seemed the best way to keep him at bay. "But I'm ready to get on now if you'd like me to do something?"

He nodded, still smiling at me like a piece of meat.

The work was simplistic and dull, but I got on with it. I had to sift through copy for certain blogs, finding new topics that hadn't been covered yet. Once that was done, I had to check them in a SEO word engine and find the top ten most untapped niches. It was a lot of reading and googling, which are two things I'm pretty well versed in.

I often checked my phone for a text from Christian, but nothing came. I know he was giving me space to process, but it kind of felt like he was avoiding me.

Tom offered to take me out for lunch, but I decided not to go with him again. Not yet anyway. And other than that, the day passed relatively slowly. When five o'clock came, everyone was out of the door pretty quickly, except for Jack who invited me politely out for dinner. I declined, saying I had to get back.

I drove back as slowly as I could. What was I going to say to him when I saw him next? It was just so…weird.

I parked down by the front gate and walked the rest of the way, deciding I would attempt to sneak past him. Two people could play his little avoidance game. I crept through the front door. It was dark now, but I couldn't see him. I climbed the stairs and walked into my bedroom – thinking I was safe.

"Ana!" a high pitched Kate screamed. She leapt off my bed and came straight at me for a hug.

"Kate? What are you doing here?" I asked, totally gobsmacked.

"I came to visit for the weekend! Isn't that great? Three whole days of my company!"

"Yeah…" I said, keeping her in a hug so that she couldn't see my face.

_3 days. 3 days of my best friend and my ghost housemate in the same house together. Brilliant. _


	8. Chapter 8

Kate and I were perched on the sofa in the living room, eating ice cream and chatting when Christian pretended to walk through the door. He was wearing a suit and even carried a briefcase, like he had just returned from the office.

'Oh, Christian, you're home,' I said, uncomfortably, jumping from my seat and practically running to the front door where he stood. 'Kate has come to visit.'

'Yes, I know,' he said with a casual smile in Kate's direction. 'Miss Jones informed me there was an extra mouth to feed. Good to see you again Katherine.'

'It's Kate,' she shot back, neither rising from her seat nor looking at him directly.

'My apologies. Well, I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on. I'll get out of your hair.' Christian walked up the stairs and was out of sight in seconds, leaving me just standing there looking ridiculous in the doorway.

'That man gives me the creeps,' Kate said, finally looking up at me.

'He's not that bad.'

'I believe the word you used to describe him was 'intense'. He's highly-strung for sure and certainly seemed strained in our interview. But I'm not entirely comfortable with you living here anymore.'

'You were the one who gave me the contact in the first place!' I huffed, plonking myself down on the sofa next to her.

'I know I was. Doesn't mean I can't change my mind. You need to move out of here.'

'You can't be serious.'

'I am. Deadly serious. No one knows anything about this man. I've done some research; he hasn't been seen properly in months. He stopped attending his own functions. He doesn't date anymore. Come on, there's definitely something weird going on with him, you've got to admit that?'

I was so close to buckling. So close to telling Kate the truth so she wouldn't think he was a weirdo. So that she could understand, maybe even help. But then I remembered his sad face when he'd told me that no one else knew that he was dead. And the seriousness on his face when the idea of people losing their jobs crossed his mind. I couldn't do that to him, or them, even though I didn't know them.

'He just likes his own space. Which, to be honest, is great for me. It's like having this giant house all to myself.'

'It is huge…' Kate said, looking around. I'd already given her the tour (well, as much as I'd been given on my first day here) and I'm pretty sure she'd eyed and priced every item in here.

'So tell me about what you're doing…' I said and that was that. For hours Kate talked about her work, her life and her family. How much she missed me. How much she didn't miss our old house now that she had all the mod-cons of home again. How much she enjoyed the freedom of it all. I envied her. It sounded like she had her life so… together. And here I was trying to build a relationship with a dead man. There's a word for people like me, and it's not a good word.

Eventually, Kate stopped talking enough to yawn.

'I should probably hit the hay. Are you working tomorrow?'

'No, it's a Saturday.'

'Good. You can show me around, take me shopping or something.'

'Sounds like a plan,' I reply. Kate wanders off like she owns the place, as I collect up all the food wrappings we've accumulated and take them to the kitchen. Christian is sat on the work top watching me. It should have made me jump, but I kind of knew he'd be there. Listening to our conversation, watching.

'I kept your secret,' I said, throwing my rubbish away and not looking at him.

'Thank you,' he replied. 'I suppose we don't need this then.'

He pointed to a small pile of paperwork sat next to him. I moved closer to see what it was and saw the title.

**Mutual Confidentiality and Nondisclosure Agreement. **

'Are you serious?' I looked up at him, hurt.

'Taylor signed one. It seemed the safest option.'

'I wish I could hit you,' I replied.

He jumped off the counter quickly and was suddenly very close to me. Inches. I could feel the electricity radiating off of him, making the hair on the back of my neck and arms stand up. I bit my lip in a nervous habit and he moved even closer. His nose was so close to mine, I thought he might try and kiss me.

But he didn't.

'If you did, I'd get you back. Worse.'

It should have been threatening. I should have been worried. But I felt excited. Intrigued. I gasped that he would act so boldly, with Kate only upstairs. But he acted like it was nothing and left me standing, gaping, in the kitchen.

The dreams that night were far more vivid, and less terrifying than the previous ones. He did touch me this time, in all sorts of places…

I woke with a start, sweating a little. I could hear the shower running down the hall. I looked at my clock and it was 3am. Still dark outside. I wore pyjamas in bed, ones with pink cat faces on them, so I climbed out of bed and moved towards the sound of running water.

A light could be seen under the bathroom door. I knocked on it.

'Kate, is that you? Are you ok?'

There was no sound, except for the shower that was still running. Then all of a sudden the door flew open. Christian was standing there, completely naked, steam surrounding him like he'd stepped out onto some ridiculous 80's film set. His hair wasn't damp but his skin seemed to be glistening. And I just stood there staring like a moron.

He smirked at me, and gently pulled at my pyjamas so that I entered the shower room with him. My pyjamas were quickly damp with the steam and sticking to my body. He pulled me into the shower with my pyjamas on, and I was soon soaked through by the hot water. My hair was stuck to my face, so I moved it out of my eyes. Christian was standing in front of me, staring back.

'What are you do…'

I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence. Christian pressed his entire body up against me and pushed me up against the wall of the shower. I couldn't see anything, the steam was so thick. My heart was racing. All I could do was feel. Not with my hands, but with everything else. The water seemed to be caressing my neck, stroking my back and the pressure of his body against me felt heavy and strong.

And he smelt amazing.

Like fresh cotton and shampoo.

I felt a hand move down my body and collect my arms up by the sleeves. Even if I wanted to stretch out my hands, I couldn't. I felt something pass across my lips, like a steamy thumb.

'If only I could bite that lip as often as you do…' he whispered, and my entire body quaked at the thought. I let out a little moan, and my eyes shot open as I registered the noise I'd just made. I could see a silvery outline of Christian now, of his smirk, of his still not damp hair.

'Why are you...' I tried again.

'The steam makes me feel warm,' he replied, pressing himself up against me some more, moving my legs apart with one of his.

'I meant...'

'I know what you meant.'

A steamy hand moved up between my legs and moved slowly back and forth once it reached the centre.

I moaned again, this time ignoring my self-consciousness and leaning into it. But as soon as I gave in like that, he stopped. He let me go and moved away, leaving me standing there, drenched and wanting.

'I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry...'

I didn't wait to hear the rest of it. I practically ran through him to get out of there, ran straight into my room and into my bed. Within seconds, I'd soaked my bed through, but I was still warm. And it was warm tears streaming down my face.

_He doesn't want you... You disgust him..._

'Ana...' he soft voice came. I wanted to tell him to go away. I wanted to hide. I felt a hand rest on top of my sheets as he attempted to wake me, or get my attention.

'Ana, I'm sorry.'

'Stop apologising,' I spat.

'But you don't know what I'm apologising for,' he continued.

'I know you don't want to be with me. I know you think what just happened was a mistake.' I was fighting back the tears futilely. They were pouring from me now.

'It was a mistake. I'm no good for you.'

'I don't care!' I shouted back, and then immediately regretted it. Not only could I potentially wake up Kate, I was causing a scene. I was embarrassing myself more and more.

'Ana, I'm not saying this right. Will you look at me?'

I did. I pulled the sheets away from my snotty gross face and looked at him, crouched next to my bed.

'Anastasia, I want to give you what you want. Everything you want. But it'll be...unconventional. You may not want to go through with it when it really comes down to it. That's ok, but I need you to be prepared; I am no Prince Charming. We will not be running off into the distance together. We cannot grow old together; we can barely have a physical relationship. There will be rules for you to follow. And repercussions if you don't.'

There was a glint in his eye when he said the last sentence that seemed to negate the rest. Although my head was telling me to get out, _you can't have a relationship with someone who is dead_, my heart (and now my body as well) argued that I could.

'Do you understand?'

I nodded, even though I didn't. Not really. But I was pretty sure it was what he wanted to hear.

'Good.'

He pulled at my sheets and scooped me up. Everything was damp and cold against my skin now. He walked me down the hallway to his own room, where he sat me down on his bed and began to undress me. I gasped a little, as a spark caught from his fingers into my chest as he undid a button, and he smirked.

'Less of that please, Miss Steele. You need your sleep.'

He pulled off the rest of my wet pyjamas, and tucked me into his bed. He lay next to me and smiled when I wouldn't stop staring at him he smiled.

'Sleep, Anastasia. Rule number one. I expect you to be well rested and well fed. I can't abide girls who don't take care of themselves.'

I smiled back and closed my eyes, though reality had been so much better than my dreams.


End file.
